Old Friends
by BlackyMacky
Summary: Sometimes friendship just isn't enough. Apparently it wasn't enough for Madara. Hashirama found that out the hard way when he had to battle his best friend to the death.


Blood red met determined brown.

"I never wanted this, you know."

Madara could only intently listen; the wood restraining him prevented him from doing anything else. His Gunbai was thrown somewhere across the charred battle field. He'd use Susanō, but his chakra was slowly being drained away by the branches holding him in place.

"The village we built, the clans we gathered; was that all for nothing?"

The Nine Tails was completely encased by the wooden dragon. Its eyes were closed as Hashirama's Wood Style suppressed it into a deep slumber. Damn thing was useless in the end. Waste of effort on his part.

The battle field was a complete wasteland. Mountains had been blown away, the surrounding forest had been uprooted and blown away by a Tailed Beast Bomb. No life would grow here for a few years, at least. Truly a battle of epic proportions that would be lauded for years to come.

"Are you even listening, Madara," Hashirama finally yelled at him. It seems he was losing his patience. Good; he was tired enough as it is. His eyes were aching from the chakra he pushed into them throughout the fight. If he still had his normal Mangekyō, he'd probably be blind by now.

"Oh, I'm listening Hashirama. I just don't care. You're planning on killing me, aren't you?" Madara just stared down the First Hokage.

"I don't want to kill you. We're friends. I care for you. Your clan cares about you. Don't you see that?"

"SILENCE!!"

Hashirama was taken back by the venom behind his voice. The last time he heard that much anger behind his voice was when they met on the battlefield as opposing clans for the last time.

"You think those fools care about me? They were some of the first to see me out that accursed village. I see the looks I get, the whispers going around the village. No one wanted me there. The moment Izuna died, I lost everyone. Don't act like you care, HASHIRAMA!"

With the last of his fading strength, he forced his way out his wooden restraints. Hashirama simply took a step back, dodging the flurry of punches the tired Uchiha sent him. It was all for naught, however. Hashirama made sure to drain him of enough chakra to make the attacks slow and inefficient. The Sharingan leaving his eyes was enough to signal that he was running on fumes.

Madara ceased his obviously uselessly Taijutsu and began to mold the hand signs for his Great Fire Annihilation. Consequences be damned, he wasn't going to let himself be dragged back to that village.

"MADARA, STOP!"

He rushed in, sending a chakra enforced jab into his gut, stopping him before he hurt himself further. The Uchiha went skidding across the barren wasteland, landing in a bloody heap meters away.

Madara struggled to lift himself, but that punch hurt like hell. Hashirama just silently walked towards the downed man, resolute in his solution to drag him back to the village.

"You can't beat me Madara. Even with your pet over there, you won't beat me." The Senju tried to reason with his long time friend.

The laugh that escaped the man's lips only worried him.

Madara slowly pushed himself with noticeable difficulty. He honestly felt like shit; only Hashirama could push him this far. His power was one of the things he respected most about the man. The pain in his chest was a sign of that.

"I'm not a fool Hashirama; I knew from the beginning I couldn't beat you."

The Hokage was utterly confused. He knew the thrill Madara got from their battles. The Uchiha was shaped by war from the time he could properly hold a sword. He always strived to be stronger; he hadn't denied a single sparring match in their entire lives. The strong survived. They both learned that early on in life.

For him to admit being second best…

"My power always paled in comparison to yours. No matter how much I trained, you bested me. Even with the strongest of the Tailed Beast, you've bested me." The bloody exiled Uchiha leaned back against a large boulder that just happened to be behind him. He needed to catch his breath for just a few minutes: his head hurt, his chest hurt, and everything else just pretty much hurt.

"But on my brother's grave, I'd rather die that go back to that accursed hellhole," Madara said as his vision began to be engulfed by darkness; he couldn't drop now. He'd just wake up in some prison cell and be let out in a few weeks due to Hashirama's political rank. Then he'd go back to the same, miserable existence.

"Bloody Uchiha should have died with his brother."

"Lord Hashirama needs to keep an eye on that guy."

"Probably planning to burn down the village or something, fucking psychopath."

He let out a bloody roar, filled with the burning hatred that resided in his soul since Izuna's death, since his mother's death, since the day he was brought into this wretched world!

His Susanō manifested around his body, its battle cry shaking the wasteland. A blinding sword of sheer chakra formed in its grip. Two crimson orbs locked onto the silent Senju as it raised its weapon, preparing to strike.

"You really plan on ending this, aren't you?" Hashirama thought to himself as the Susanō swung down on him. His hands slammed together into the snake seal as a barrier of wood formed itself around him.

The blade struck home, the sheer power behind the strike causing a deep gash in the ground below. However, the blade wasn't penetrating the defense at all; Madara clenched his teeth in exertion as he tried to break through that damn wood shield. The chakra construct was already flickering. He continued to push down on the blade, trying to make so much as a dent in the barrier before he collapsed once and for all.

Due to his concentration, he didn't notice the branches slowly encasing his warrior. Branches worked there way into the deepest nooks of the Susanō, constricting its movements completely. Slowly, they began to apply pressure, sucking out chakra to weaken it more. Cracks formed along the surface, signaling the destruction of the warrior.

Madara tried to force more chakra through; he wouldn't lose here. He had to-

The Susanō faded completely, leaving behind chakra residue in its wake. Madara stood, dead on his feet. He was absolutely spent; it took everything he had to simply stay standing. His vision was going black at the edges and slowly completely enveloping him.

The Uchiha was able to make out the form of Hashirama walking towards him, eyes forlorn, yet determined. His hand had morphed into a spire of wood with an awfully sharp point. It scraped against the ground, leaving an indent in the ground as the Senju went in for the kill.

"It's over, Madara."

The sense of finality behind those words only confirmed his thought. Hashirama was really going to kill him. The same jolly, easy-going man was going to pierce right through his heart with that spire.

"I guess it is, old friend." Madara just sighed. He knew very well he wasn't going to leave this battle alive, but he wasn't going to just stand here and let Hashirama kill him. He'd die on his two feet like a warrior.

With an extreme amount of effort, he pushed off, charging at the Senju. A kunai slipped into his hand from one of his hidden pockets. It's time to finish this.

Hashirama charged, meeting him halfway as two of the strongest men in Shinobi history clashed in one final attack.

The kunai pierced his skull.

Madara stood in complete shocked silence as the kunai stabbed right into Hashirama's head. Did the bastard hesitate? Did he let himself be hit? What was going-

A burst of pain erupted in his abdomen as blood flew onto the ground. What the hell?

He looked down at the sword that pierced through him. The clone in front of him dissipated in a cloud of smoke. Hashirama held the blade steadily as tears leaked down his face. He was crying? What gall.

With a strong outward yank, the Uchiha fell.

He collapsed onto his back, eyes looking up to the night sky. Hashirama stood above him, looking down with tears falling onto his forehead. This was it. His time was done.

"Looks like… you really had it in you… all along," the Uchiha managed to get out as his breath was leaving him. He was waiting for death to finally claim him; he'd be able to see Izuna again. He'd be free of this accursed existence.

Hashirama fell to his knees, his breath coming out in short puffs; he was struggling not to break down on the spot. He never wanted this. He though Madara changed; he believed in him when so many didn't.

But the truth was he had been hurting on the inside.

He'd been to naïve to see it, foolishly believing everything would turn out alright. That Madara had simply acclimated to a life of peace. He should have known better; he grew up surrounded by war and death, losing almost all his family. Of course he wouldn't be able to just stop. He still found himself walking up in the middle of the night in preparation for an attack that never came.

But he never bothered with Madara. The man was so strong and prideful that he never bothered others for help, even him. He never talked to anyone besides him. And yet his supposed 'best friend' couldn't even see the hatred in Madara's heart.

He was pathetic.

How could he be Hokage when he couldn't even save one friend?

A hand touched his cheek, wiping away the stray tears. Hashirama looked down at the barely alive Uchiha whose life was almost gone. He should heal him. Maybe there's a chance-

"Don't… think about… healing me. This is what… I want," the bloody Uchiha managed to get out, a smirk adorning his lips. He was a lost cause.

"DON'T SAY THAT! You're my friend; you deserved better." Hashirama was already a blubbering mess. They were supposed to live long and watch the village become a shining utopia, not killing each other. It wasn't right. This was the exact reason he formed the village in the first place. Friends shouldn't be forced to kill each other in cold blood.

It's… just like back then. When clans waged bloody war against one another. Children dying, families dying; it was utter agony. It wasn't right.

But look at him now, killing his best friend in cold blood.

Some Hokage he was.

"I've been cursed since birth, Hashirama. These eyes… guarantee a life of… misery. I've lived my life… and now it's time to leave." Blood leaked from his mouth as his heart began to slowly stop.

Here I come Izuna.

"Take care… of that village of ours. Too many died… for it." A smile came onto his face. One of the few genuine smiles in his life.

"You've always… been my best friend, Hashirama. Live long, my friend." A lone tear escaped his eyes as death finally came to claim him.

"Maybe we have a drink on the other side, as old war buddies," Hashirama said as heartbroken smile broke out on his face. The Uchiha weakly nodded, face covered in a mix of his and Hashirama's tears.

"Yeah… that'd be nice."

His breathing stopped completely.

Blank black eyes met forlorn brown.

Tendrils of wood formed around the corpses of the Uchiha. They merged and merged until they finally formed into the intended shape.

A wooden coffin with the Uchiha Clan signature fan adorned onto the top and words marked below it.

Madara Uchiha

Uchiha Patriarch

Powerful Warrior

My Best Friend

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Greeting again good people. I know I said I was gonna write a Fem!Shōto a while ago, but then I sprained my knee in Gym. Took about a month to fully heal, but by then I felt like crap. But I knew my faithful reviewers deserved more, so I wrote this.

It's basically a one-shot on what if Hashirama truly killed Madara and he didn't plan an Izanagi.

No promises, but I plan to get that Fem!Shōto out soon. Check your DM's.


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